


Speak Easy

by secondshame



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Crack, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-09
Updated: 2013-05-09
Packaged: 2017-12-10 21:43:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/790480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secondshame/pseuds/secondshame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a prompt at footballkink2: Irina says the most filthiest things during sex and ladies man extraordinaire Cristiano Ronaldo doesn't know what to do with himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Speak Easy

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this](http://footballkink2.livejournal.com/6924.html?thread=1758732#t1758732) prompt. Also [here](http://secondshame.livejournal.com/1283.html) on livejournal.

Cristiano is quiet at training one morning, which is weird because if there’s one person who never shuts up at training… it’s Xabi. But if there’re two, it’s Cristiano. Sergio knows he’s not exactly the strong, silent, emphasis on silent, type either, but if Cris isn’t talking, then something’s probably up. Sergio almost asks him if everything’s okay, but he sees Iker approaching and figures he’ll fulfil captainly duties for the both of them. 

Kaka beats Iker to it though, because nobody cares about people like Kaka cares about people, especially when those people are Cristiano Ronaldo. Sergio’s close enough to overhear their conversation, but all that happens is Cristiano gives Kaka’s hair a gentle tug and tells him everything’s fine. Then he reaches out and knocks an incoming rocket of a ball to the ground with his hand before it can take Kaka out. Sergio thinks that the Madridistas of the world would probably like to know that when he’s not spending even longer on his hair than Sergio does on his own, Cristiano Ronaldo is basically Superman.    Superman with an unidentified kryptonite problem, apparently. “Come on, _hombre_ ,” Sergio says, joining the conversation. “What’s on your mind?” Cristiano just shakes his head. 

“What’s going on?” Marcelo asks, after running up yelling, “Foul” and, “Handball” and waving an imaginary card at Cristiano. 

“The usual,” Sergio reports. Cris is sad and won’t say why. He won’t even tell Ricky.” 

“Fuck off,” Cristiano says conversationally. Then he sighs heavily and switches to Portuguese.

 “ _Oi_ ,” Sergio says, frowning. “ _Espanhol, cuzões_.” Whatever Cristiano said has led Kaka’s cheeks to turn faintly pink and Marcelo to let out a loud guffaw, which causes Cristiano to kick the soccer ball at his feet at him. Before Sergio can Cristiano to admit to whatever it is that made Kaka blush and Marcelo laugh, el Mister blows his whistle to end training and Cristiano takes off for the locker room.

Cristiano avoids him in the showers but afterwards, as they’re getting dressed, Sergio comes up beside him. “Come _on_ ,” he says. “Just tell me. Maybe I can help?” He tries to sound sincere, which he totally is. He wants to laugh at Cristiano if whatever it is is as ridiculous as Marcelo thinks, but he also wants Cristiano to be happy. 

Cristiano groans. “Fine,” he says, with a huff, and leans across the bench to mutter his dilemma in Sergio’s ear. 

After a minute, when Sergio has finished laughing, he says, “Rough life, man. We should all be so lucky.”

 “It’s really not that funny,” Cristiano says bitchily, which makes Sergio—and Marcelo, who is walking past towelling off his hair—laugh again.

“Okay,” Sergio says, forcing his face into a neutral expression. “Explain it like I’m five. What’s the problem here? Is it a turn-off or—“ he chuckles, “is it _too much_ of a turn-on? Are you telling me Señor Ladies Man of the Twenty-First Century can’t handle a little dirty talk from his super hot girlfriend?” 

Cristiano groans again and bares his teeth, makes the face he makes when his free kick doesn’t go into the net or when a defender pulls him to the ground and the ref doesn’t see or when anything else doesn’t go quite his way on the pitch. When he speaks, his voice has a note of desperation. “No, it’s not… I just… what do I _do_?” 

This sends Sergio and Marcelo into another fit of laughter. Cristiano glares from one of them to the other and stomps away to talk to Kaka. Sergio follows, pulling himself back together and under control. 

He’s still a bit breathless from laughing, but he says, “No, really, Cris, it’s not a big deal. Just, you know, say something back. Whatever dumb, porn star thing pops into your head. ‘Yeah, baby, you want my big dick?’ That kind of thing.” Cristiano looks at Kaka like he’s asking for help, but Kaka just shrugs and then nods, which allows Sergio to assume some intriguing things about Kaka and his wife, but doesn’t seem to be what Cristiano is looking for. 

“It’s easy,” Sergio says, trying to reassure him, and knowing that if he keeps talking he’ll be less likely to start laughing again. He drops his voice and says as seductively as possible, “I could show you, if you like.” It’s partly to demonstrate and mostly to wind Cristiano up, and he suspects that his plan has somehow backfired when Cristiano’s worried look turns into a smirk and he grabs Sergio’s cell phone out of his hands. 

“Fine,” Cristiano says, scrolling through Sergio’s contacts and then pressing the call button. “Show me.” He shoves the phone back at Sergio, who considers hitting the ‘end call’ button but decides he’s not going to be the one to lose what has possibly just become history’s strangest game of chicken. So he just checks to make sure that Cristiano hasn’t selected, like, Sergio’s _mother_ , and holds the phone up to his ear. 

“Hey, sexy,” Sergio says when he hears that the other end of the line has been answered. “I’ve been thinking about you, baby, putting my fat cock in you, how much I want to fuck you. I—“

“What the _fuck_ , Ramos?” comes the response before Sergio can continue. 

Sergio lets the silence hang between them for a moment just to make Fernando feel uncomfortable before he laughs and says, “Sorry about that. Trying to prove a point. Talk to you soon,” and hangs up. “See?” he says, looking back to Cristiano. “Easy. Now go home and say some filthy shit to Irina.” 

“I honestly hate you,” Cristiano says. 

  “Don’t we all?” Iker says, walking by. Sergio throws an arm around his shoulders and plants a wet kiss on his cheek, which Iker makes a show of wiping off with one of his gloves. 

“Report back,” Sergio tells Cristiano. Kaka cups his hand around Cristiano’s ear and whispers something that makes Cristiano blush the same shade of pink that Kaka himself had turned earlier, so Sergio adds, “Do whatever he said” and totally re-evaluates what he knows about Kaka’s sex life once more. 

Cristiano looks a bit dazed, overwhelmed maybe, so Sergio pats him on the head, doing his best to smush down as many of Cristiano’s meticulously gelled spikes as he can, and then grabs his bag and heads out of the locker room. As he leaves he thinks that he can’t _wait_ to hear what Cristiano will have to say in training tomorrow.


End file.
